Traffic.

I have mentioned the traffic--or the lack of traffic--many times, so I thought it might behoove me to know exactly how much traffic I have here on my street.
I flipped to a new page on my note pad, I put the date down and "cars Passing" and a space for the check marks.
Between eight in the morning and eight at night I counted four and a half. The half was a car that didn't quite make it all the way to my house before it turned around and fled back to whence it came.
Four and a half.
I have a right to make fun of the lack of traffic now.